


Two Deaths and a Conversation

by WeAllFlyHigh



Series: Old Gods [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Old Gods, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeAllFlyHigh/pseuds/WeAllFlyHigh
Summary: During his adventures Arthur has become familiar with the God of Death. But there's to the other side than he knows.In which the author spends a lot of time trying to conceptualize death and considers converting to Buddhism. Also, in which Mathew is a soft romantic and Arthur remains too oblivious.
Series: Old Gods [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818469
Kudos: 7





	Two Deaths and a Conversation

_He’d been accused of being blind to Alfred’s faults. Fools. He knew the young god and his brother better than any of them. He could read them as easily as he read the stars. He’d witnessed their first fumbling attempts at divine magic. He taught them all that he knew. He brought them to the edge of their realm to gaze down on mortal ceremonies and brought them to Gilbert’s battlefields._

_He saw the lights lurking in the depths of their eyes at the bloodshed. He knew what it wasn’t. The young gods didn’t glory in the struggle, the bloody display of the best and worst of men. They didn’t enjoy the bloodshed, but they couldn’t look away. It wasn’t the violence that held them spellbound. It was anticipation. They were waiting on the cusp of their meaning, their purpose._

_In those moments he knew what they were._

_He knew Alfred. He knew the young god had done this before, even though he did not remember. And because he knew that, he knew that every story had an end. He knew what was coming for him._

_He knew it was time as soon as he heard Alfred’s footsteps._

_Alfred hesitated. He’d been welcomed into Arthur’s realm countless times before. Even if he hadn’t been welcome, his steps never faltered before as he climbed over fences and into windows. But this was different. Alfred knew what he had to do. And yet he hesitated. He was reluctant to do it not because he doubted his duty but because it was him, Arthur._

_Arthur loved him for that, Alfred’s bleeding, loving heart. The young god had always had trouble accepting things he could not change. He tried so hard._

_But that didn’t mean Arthur would make this easy for him._

* * *

Arthur’s head swims as he opens his eyes.

He only realizes that someone had been humming when the tune stops. “What are you doing here?” The voice is sweet and deep, comforting. Purple eyes look down at him. They are framed by long golden lashes. The man above him blinks. 

“I’m sorry?”

The man smiles. His smile is soft, gentle, and somehow familiar. He brushes his wavy hair behind his ears. “Oh no, it’s ok. You’re just not supposed to be here yet. But that’s ok. Is there anything I can get for you?”

The man helps Arthur sit up. They are surrounded by white. It’s eerie, as far as Arthur can see there is nothing around them.

He takes a moment to examine the man in the void with him. He’s dressed in a winter jacket and boots, all of it white. He’s younger than Arthur had first assumed. He’s older than him but only by a few years. The strangest thing though is that his every feature is weirdly familiar.

“Do you have any tea?”

The young man winces. “Ah no, sorry. But I do have coffee and pancakes with maple syrup.”

“That will do nicely.” Arthur smiles at him and receives one in return. His purple eyes flicker with a light deep inside them. The sight causes his heart to leap. He knows what that means. He tells himself he should be frightened but at this point it’s just a token gesture to him. He hardly considers it before he decides to ask. “Excuse me. Do you happen to be an Old God?”

The young man blinks in surprise. Then he lets out a breathy laugh. “An Old God? You’ve met Alfred then.”

Now that’s unusual. In his experience Old Gods often dance around his questions. He’s had to wheedle and trick them into surrendering even the smallest scraps of information. Additionally, in every interaction he has ever had with them, none of them have ever mentioned Alfred. They’ll refer to him to indirectly. They’ll imply things and they’ll call him epithets. But they never refer to him so casually. It surprises him to say the least. It makes him very curious.

“Yes.” He can’t help pushing for more, which will probably get him in trouble. “You don’t seem to be afraid.”

The young man takes a few steps back and pulls back a chair for him. Arthur blinks. There’s another chair sitting across a table. The table has two plates stacked high with large pancakes and a container of syrup between them. Two mugs sit beside the plates. The plates and furniture, all of it is white. Mathew sits down across the table.

“What’s there to be afraid of?” It smells wonderful. Butter drips off the side of the pancakes. Arthur takes a seat. The god across from him twirls a fork between his fingers. He does seem to be completely calm.

“Well the others I’ve met have been. And Alfred…Alfred is the God of Death and you’re... well he’s been looking for others.”

The god pours a thick syrup over the pancakes. A sticky pool forms on the plate. He hums pleasantly. He peers at Arthur from until his lashes before answering. His lips twitch like he’s holding a secret behind them. “It’s complicated. Death can be cruel or merciful.”

He picks up his fork and plunges it deep into the stack. “But the dead always stay dead. It makes things peaceful for me.” He takes a bite. Arthur picks up a fork of his own. What could he do, just watch? This might be the first pleasant god he’s met but he didn’t want to take the risk and offend him. That was just manners. “I’m the God of the Dead.”

Arthur chokes. The god pauses his own meal. “Are you ok?”

Arthur pounds on his chest. Then he sips his coffee. It’s pale brown, more cream and sugar than anything else. He has to clear his throat multiple times before he can speak. “So, it’s a Thanatos and Hades situation?”

The god brightens. “Exactly. We’re twins.”

“I see. You’re both very…” Arthur coughs. He can’t say what he wants. He can see the resemblance now. Their hair is the same shade of gold. Their chins and the angle of their cheeks are identical. He wonders if that resemblance is genetics or by design. The details of a gods powers and controls are beyond him.

The god seems delighted by Arthur’s awkwardness. He laughs into his coffee cup. It’s like he can see exactly what Arthur is thinking and finds it to be hilarious. “You’re too kind but you shouldn’t repeat that. It might make certain people jealous.”

The god said it with a joking wink like Arthur was in on a joke. Arthur can recall several centuries of religion and mythology that would argue that there’s nothing to joke about in this matter. Gods can he fickle, especially in love, and that often ends up costing interlopers a lot. He has no idea who the god is referring to. Maybe he has a lover like his Greek counterpart?

He decides to follow the gods advise. He’s never been one to pry, well not into this monsters and sorcery are another matter altogether, and he really has no desire to be divinely smote.

Another thought nags at him. Arthur takes a bite while he wonders if he should ask. It’s not long before he decides that he will test the waters again. “Forgive me but, aren’t you sad?”

“Sad?”

Arthur sets his fork down and folds his hands on the table. “You’re not afraid. I can understand that given your position. But aren’t you at least sad that it will all end?”

The god licks his sticky fork and gestures down at his empty plate. He smiles and Arthur can see Alfred in it. The god is very amused and a little mischievous. “Don’t all things end? Even the best of meals. You don’t look back at it and wished you’d never ate it and you don’t decide you’re never going to eat again.” The god lifts his coffee cup to his lips. “Maybe I’m just a romantic.”

“A romantic?”

He licks the lingering coffee off his lips. “Yes. I’ll die and I forget everything, apparently again. But then don’t I have the chance to start over?”

Arthur almost laughs at the idea. He’s played those words over and over before in his head. They’re practically a lullaby to him now, he thinks about them so often. “You sound like your brother.”

The god giggles into his coffee cup. “Don’t worry I’m not going to start talking about freedom.” He rolls his eyes affectionately. “It’s just I can fall in love all over again. Maybe it’ll be a missed connection from the past. Or maybe it’s always the same person and I get to love them life after life.”

Falling in love all over again. Arthur hides his face in his coffee as heat rushes to his face. He can picture it; new butterflies in his stomach, countless first kisses, and lifetimes of little moments of love. What an idea. “That’s a lovely thought.”

“Thank you.”

Arthur watches the God of the Dead as he daydreams. He smiles softly as he looks far away. His fingers drift about his cup; lingering on the handle like he might pick it up before skimming the rim. He’s adorable like this. Who would have thought that it of the Dead? Although knowing Alfred, Arthur really should have guessed. Every time he runs into him, even if the god is deep into his work, he’s always taken time to chat charmingly. And Arthur…he really needs to focus on his current situation.

He’s having breakfast with the God of the Dead. But he can’t remember how he came to be here. He starts tracing his memories. Elizabeta had found rumors online about something strange three towns away. They’d gone to a small town chasing them. The wind was cold enough to feel like pins jabbing into his skin. There was a snarling deep in the woods. A scream. Roderich frantically peeled back his shirt to press his hands to Arthur’s shoulder. There was blood, a lot of blood.

He chokes on his thoughts. “Wait. Am I dead?”

The god laughs. Coffee spills out of his mouth. He snatches a napkin out of nowhere. “Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.” The god presses the napkin to his mouth. Giggles escape him as he cleans. Even after his laughter stops his eyes are still twinkling with amusement. “You’re not dead. Or at least you won’t be for long. Maybe try to avoid werewolves in the future?”

“Ah yes. I’ll certainly aspire to.” Although in his defense, he hadn’t meant to encounter them this time.

“I can’t believe it took you that long to ask.” Arthur turns red and can’t look the god in the eyes. “My name is Mathew by the way.” Then he laughs again.

Arthur hides his face in his hands. He forgot to ask. How could he forget to ask? How is it that these old gods always managed to unhinge him like this? He swears he’s never as stupid or impolite as when he’s with one of them. “Thank you.”

After a considerable amount of time to compose himself Arthur speaks. “This isn’t the afterlife then?”

“Oh no.” Mathew looks around the white nothingness. “This is probably just a pocket.”

“A pocket?”

“Between life and death. They pop up occasionally. This one is…kinda boring.”

“I see. Not a fan of wide expanses of white?”

Mathew reaches under the table. “No, I don’t mind that. It’s just…the arctic is a wide expanse of white and it has polar bears and foxes and all sorts of life. This is just boring.” With a pleased noise Mathew pulls his hands back up to the table. He sets a faded and stained box down. He starts to unpack little gleaming figurines and a game board. “Would you like to play a game while we wait?”

“I don’t think I know this game.”

“I didn’t expect you to. It’s an old one but I know you’ll like it.” Mathew holds out a silver figure and smiles.

Arthur laughs and accepts.

**Author's Note:**

> This Au is so much fun.   
> Could Mathew have provided more than pancakes and coffee, I’m pretty sure he could have but it's what he wants.


End file.
